


On the Seduction Line

by crochetaway



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Against the wall sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, Smut, Triad - Freeform, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: The wizarding world has been devastated by the second wizarding world. Most of the British wizards are dead and Voldemort is still alive and going strong. Dumbledore urges Hermione and Daphne to go back in time to do what they can to stop Tom Riddle before he becomes Voldemort.





	On the Seduction Line

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
> 23\. Against the Wall
> 
> **A/N: Thanks for the mods for hosting this fest! And many thanks to NuclearNik, my beta, for stepping in at the last moment! MsMerlin made the _gorgeous_ manip you see below! I love it so much, thank you!**

* * *

Hermione Granger looked around at the devastation at Hogwarts, her eyes were too dry for tears though she felt like crying. A lump in her throat made it hard for her to swallow. There were bodies and body parts everywhere. It was worse than the battle ten years ago. Far, far worse. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this. Two-thirds of the wizarding population of Britain was lying dead on the grounds of the premiere wizarding school in the country.

Harry Potter had been dead for ten years, and still, Voldemort reigned over the land.

“Come on,” Daphne Greengrass murmured, coaxing Hermione forward. She wrapped her hand around Hermione’s and tugged. Daphne was one of the few people still alive that was Hermione’s age. They were all gone. The entire Weasley family had been taken out two years ago. That’s when Hermione had truly stopped crying. What was there left to cry for when her entire adopted family was gone?

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked tiredly as she and Daphne picked their way over the still battlefield. The smoke from spellfire hung in the air, making it difficult to make out all of the carnage. It smelled of blood, sweat, magic, and death. She almost choked on it. As a child she had loved the smell of spellfire—that sharp, acrid sulfur scent had always served to remind her of the magic in the world, of the possibilities. Now it only reminded her of death.

“Dumbledore wants to see us,” Daphne said. Her voice sounded as haggard as Hermione felt, and she squeezed Daphne’s hand tightly. They’d been awake for going on two days, and Hermione could see the way the last few days were weighing on Daphne.

“Hey.” Hermione pulled Daphne to a stop just inside the entrance hall doors of the castle. “You alright?” she asked, brushing her hand across Daphne’s cheek. Daphne nuzzled into her hand for a moment, silent tears tracking down her face. She sniffed once and nodded. “Come here,” Hermione murmured, wrapping her arms around the taller witch’s shoulders.

Daphne hugged Hermione back, burying her face in Hermione’s hair as her shoulders shook with sobs. “I’ve got you,” Hermione whispered over and over again. What else could she say? Daphne had just watched her sister get slashed in two on the battlefield a few short hours ago. Hermione held her close, stroking her hair until Daphne had calmed some.

A moment later, Hermione found her back pressed against the wall as Daphne’s lips found hers. Little shocks of electricity danced across Hermione’s skin as Daphne snogged her. Her hand was buried in Hermione’s thick hair, directing her head, and Hermione let herself melt against Daphne. She sighed as Daphne tore herself away and began trailing a path of hot, wet kisses along Hermione’s throat. Daphne always treated tragedy as a reason to get naked and fuck. Hell, Daphne treated basically anything as a reason to get naked and fuck.

Hermione grunted when Daphne’s hand found its way beneath her jeans and inside her knickers. “Fuck,” she muttered when Daphne found her clit immediately.

“That’s the plan,” Daphne groaned against Hermione’s mouth. Hermione nipped at Daphne’s lower lip before reaching inside the taller witch’s robes. Even on the battlefield, Daphne wore a dress. It was easy to pull it over her hips and slide her fingers across Daphne’s wet folds.

“Always a tease, Granger. Fuck me already,” Daphne growled, sinking two fingers inside Hermione.

Hermione huffed out a laugh and copied Daphne’s movements. She shifted her weight, allowing Daphne better access to her cunt as Daphne hooked a leg around Hermione’s hip, opening herself completely to Hermione’s questing fingers. With her other hand, Hermione began tweaking one of Daphne’s nipples and was pleased when the other witch keened.

“You know, a bed would make this easier,” Hermione said as conversationally as she could with three of Daphne’s fingers buried inside her and making that _come hither_ motion that always made her see stars.

She squeezed a fourth finger inside Daphne, making the same motion and thumbing her clit. Hermione smiled when Daphne shrieked and pitched over the edge of her climax, partially collapsing against Hermione. Daphne’s fingers were still buried inside, and Hermione squeezed her inner muscles around them.

“Salazar you’re good at that, Granger,” Daphne murmured, moving her fingers faster and faster, mashing her thumb to Hermione’s clit in just the way she needed.

“Harder,” Hermione gasped.

Daphne slammed her back into the wall behind her, yanking on her hair and pounding her hand into Hermione’s slick cunt. It was what Hermione needed to reach her peak. She didn’t come as easily as Daphne did, and her orgasms were often smaller, but even that was enough to take the edge off. Daphne pulled her hand free of Hermione’s jeans and licked her fingers clean. Grabbing Hermione’s hand, she licked her fingers too before turning and pulling Hermione after her, heading for the Headmaster’s office.

* * *

“No. Absolutely not,” Hermione said resolutely. “This is insanity, Dumbledore!”

“Please, Hermione. Hear me out,” the headmaster said. He looked old and worn out, and his voice sounded so raspy it was sometimes difficult for Hermione to make out what he was trying to say. His glasses sat on top of his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was ironic that Dumbledore with his cursed hand was still alive when so many others weren’t.

“We’ll either bugger this timeline completely, or we’ll create an entirely new one! You would cease to exist! Is that what you want to risk?” Hermine argued.

“I think we should hear him out,” Daphne said quietly. Hermione turned sharply toward her friend, glaring at her. “Look, let’s just see what his entire plan is. How far back? What specifically does he want us to influence?”

Hermione turned back to Dumbledore and crossed her arms over her chest. Any positive feelings left over from her recent orgasm had dissipated entirely in the face of this new fuckery from Dumbledore. Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses, polishing them against the sleeve of his robes for a long moment. Hermione began tapping her foot in her impatience. She hated the manipulative bullshit Dumbledore _still_ tried to pull.

“I want you to go back and try to gather Tom’s friends around yourselves instead. I think going back after Tom leaves Hogwarts but before he disappears from Britain is essential. Ignore Tom. That’s the key. Ignore Tom so that he will be jealous. Do what you can for his own good, sway his friends and followers to your side. Stop the Horcruxes if you can. We now know what they are, but too many of them have moved beyond our reach. We’ll never win in this timeline because of it.” Dumbledore’s voice seemed noticeably weaker when he was finished, and he slumped slightly in his chair, as if the directive alone was enough to steal his life from him.

“And the fact that we’re essentially bombing this timeline to hell?” Hermione spat.

“Who is there left to save?” Dumbledore whispered. “There’s nobody left. Nobody wants to live in this world.”

“What about the Muggles? They know nothing of this war! We’re condemning them too. It’s not just Britain, Dumbledore. We’re talking about fucking the entire world!”

“Time is a loop,” Dumbledore insisted. “Whatever you change back then, will change here.”

“And if we unmake someone? What if we unmake Harry? Or even myself or Daphne?” The thought alone caused Hermione to shiver. As much as she missed her friends, at least they’d had a chance to live before Voldemort ruined everything. What would happen if they didn’t even get that chance? It hurt both her heart and her head thinking about it.

“You’ll be anchored in the new time. Even if your future self isn’t born, you’ll still be there.” Dumbledore’s voice was so raspy at the end that Hermione had to strain to hear him. He coughed so hard, his entire body shook with it.

“We won’t if time is a loop,” Daphne said once Dumbledore’s coughing fit was over. “It’s risky, but Hermione, I agree with Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore smiled then, and Hermione turned back toward her friend. She had to make them see reason. This was complete insanity, and Dumbledore’s plan of ignoring Tom Riddle? Stupid. Hermione would rather cast an Avada at him and spend the rest of her life in Azkaban then work on Dumbledore’s idiotic plan.

“You aren’t thinking clearly. This has the potential to fuck the world up for good. We’re only going to get one shot at this, and if we fuck it up, it’s done. We have to live with the consequences,” Hermione hissed.

“Then we’d better not fail,” Daphne said, her lips twitching up slightly. “You rarely fail at anything anyway.” She moved closer to Hermione, placing her hands on Hermione’s shoulders. “You know this is the right thing. It’s the _only_ thing that makes sense. It’s the only thing that’s going to work.”

Hermione shook her head. She didn’t want to believe it, but after this last battle there wasn’t enough of the Order left to fight Voldemort. She gulped down a sob that suddenly threatened to burst forth from her lips. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

“Me too,” Daphne said, smiling sadly.

“Here,” Dumbledore gasped, sliding forward the oddest looking Time-Turner Hermione had ever seen. It looked as if it had been cobbled together out of at least four other Time-Turners. It was spherical with half a dozen concentric spheres and four hourglasses in the middle.

“It’s set. Just pull the pin,” he said, giving them a slight smile before breaking off into another coughing fit. Hermione wondered then if Dumbledore only planned to stay alive long enough to see them off.

Daphne snatched the Time-Turner from the desk, slipping the long chain over her head and grabbing Hermione’s hand once more.

“We should do it outside the gates,” Hermione said. “So we don’t appear in the Headmaster’s office. What year are we going back to?”

“1947. Two years after Tom graduated from Hogwarts. He worked at Borgin and Burke’s until 1955. Plenty of time to recruit Tom’s friends and associates.” Dumbledore seemed to be losing his life in front of them as he slumped further in his chair.

“Will you be alright?” Daphne asked.

“Yes,” Dumbledore whispered, waving them away with his cursed hand. Daphne nodded smartly and pulled Hermione out of Dumbledore’s office.

The minute they were past the gargoyle statue, Daphne started talking.

“Obviously, Dumbledore’s addled,” she said.

“Oh, thank God.” Hermione was relieved. “I didn't want to say anything, but going into the past is a fool’s errand.”

“Not about that,” Daphne snapped. “About his plan. Ignore Tom? Fuck no, we’re going to seduce him.”

Hermione pulled to a stop, yanking on Daphne’s hand. “What?”

Daphne turned to face her, a seductive smirk on her face. “You think Tom Riddle is going to stand a chance against two battle-hardened thirty-year-old women hell-bent on getting him into bed? In ‘47 he’s what? Twenty, twenty-one tops? It’ll be a cakewalk.”

“And then what?” Hermione hissed. “After we lure him into bed, we kill him?”

Daphne shrugged. “If he won’t cooperate sure. Or we pull information about his Horcruxes out of him and destroy those. How many would he have?”

“Two—the diary and the ring,” Hermione answered absently as she tried to grapple with Daphne’s plan.

“Good. We destroy them both, then we figure out what to do with baby Riddle.”

“How do we even know he’s into women?” Hermione asked. “He might be asexual or gay!”

“Please, with all the phallic imagery of the Death Eaters? That man has a boner for women. I mean, maybe not now that he’s all _snakified_, but I guarantee you he did when he was twenty,” Daphne said. She wrenched open the door to the castle, and Hermione almost threw up as the reality of having to walk through the battlefield strewn with bodies once more hit her. It was utterly silent outside the castle; the wind didn’t blow, no animals or birds scurried. It was just silence and death.

“Fine,” Hermione said. “We’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work, I’m killing him.”

“It’ll work,” Daphne said grimly as she looped her arm through Hermione’s.

Taking a deep breath, the two left the castle that had been their home for most of their lives and picked their way through the battlefield before them. The moment they were on the other side of the gates, Daphne tossed the necklace of the Time-Turner over Hermione’s head.

“Ready?” Daphne asked, holding the Time-Turner in one hand, while the other wrapped around Hermione’s waist.

“No,” Hermione admitted. Daphne smirked at her and pulled the pin from the Time-Turner at the same time she pressed a kiss to Hermione’s lips.

A whirling sensation swooshed over, around, and through them as they travelled sixty-one years back into the past.

* * *

“This was stupid, idiotic,” Hermione hissed as she and Daphne slipped through Diagon Alley. “We don’t even have any money! No jobs! No references! No place to live! No fucking planning!”

“Chill, Granger,” Daphne murmured. “I have a plan.”

Hermione’s hand twitched against Daphne’s as Daphne pulled her along toward Gringotts.

“What are you doing?” Hermione demanded in a furious whisper. “We can’t go in there.”

“Listen, Hermione,” Daphne turned around, pushing Hermione into a nearby building. The Alley was crowded enough that most people ignored them. “I know you don’t understand all the intricacies of the wizarding world and being pure-blooded despite how much you’ve tried. I just need you to trust me on this. Once a Greengrass, always a Greengrass. The goblins will recognize me, and I should be able to access my family’s money.”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll just wait here for you then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Daphne said. “Wish me luck,” she added, pressing a quick kiss against Hermione’s lips before making her way toward Gringotts. Hermione watched after her with fear, terror, and indecision roiling in her stomach. Nothing about this seemed like a good idea to her, but it was done. They were back in 1947, and there was nothing to be done about it. The modified Time-Turner Dumbledore had given them spontaneously combusted the moment the world stopped moving around them. Even if they were to attempt to go back to the future, what future would be left for them? Dumbledore said time was a loop, but Hermione wasn’t convinced. She took a few more deep breaths, attempting to calm her anxieties and began following Daphne toward Gringotts. She could at least wait outside while Daphne went down and stole funds from her family vault.

Almost half an hour later, Hermione felt like she was about to crawl out of her skin when Daphne finally appeared at the top of the Gringotts steps. Hermione let out a slow breath as Daphne flashed her a quick grin and sauntered down the stairs. Apparently, she had been successful as she had a hefty bag hanging off of her belt.

“Now, we have funds to last us for a few months. Let’s go get a room and get cleaned up before _Operation Seduction_ begins.”

Hermione snorted and looped her arm around Daphne’s. The fact that they had money and access to more eased many of Hermione’s worries. “I’m pretty sure _Operation Seduction_ began the moment you tossed that Time-Turner around our necks.”

Daphne hummed her agreement as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted in the new robes they had bought—she wasn’t quite comfortable in the 1940s style, but she felt beautiful. “Are you sure approaching him at work is the way to go?” Hermione asked.

“No. Ideally we’d approach him at a society event, but since we don’t know anybody in this society, we’ll have to make do,” Daphne responded. “Just pretend to be snotty and discerning, and he’ll fall all over himself to attempt to make a sale. And show your tits. They’re your best feature.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, tugging her robes down further to show the tops of her breasts. She took a deep breath and strode confidently into Borgin and Burkes. It was much less run-down than it had been in her time, which Hermione hoped meant she wouldn’t be as out of place as she felt. Squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up just right, Hermione let her eyelids fall close just slightly and breezed through the door of the shop.

The bell tinkled above her as she took in her surroundings. She knew not to touch anything without first checking it for curses. This was especially dangerous for her, a Muggle-born. There could be objects in here designed specifically for someone like her. Burying her feelings, Hermione wandered down the aisles, occasionally pausing to peer closer at items at random. She wondered when the person at the counter with their back to the shop would acknowledge her.

“Mmm, that one bites,” someone whispered in Hermione’s ear. She bit back a scream as she straightened to find a young and devilishly handsome Tom Riddle staring down at her. His eyes were a deep, dark blue, and Hermione wondered when exactly they turned red.

“You startled me,” Hermione said in her best imitation of Daphne, taking a step back from him. He followed her, so she straightened her spine and held her ground.

“Apologies, madam,” Riddle replied. He looked her over, and Hermione didn’t miss the way his mouth almost turned up into a smirk when his eyes landed on her cleavage. She wondered what he was thinking as he finally dragged his gaze back up to her. “I’m not sure we’ve met…”

“Hermione Granger,” she held out her hand, “I’ve just moved here from the continent.”

Riddle took her hand, holding her eyes as he slowly brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her fingers. “Your accent is remarkable flawless,” Riddle said, still holding her hand.

“I had excellent tutors, Mr….”

“Riddle. Tom Riddle,” he grinned at her then. Hermione wasn’t acting when she sighed and licked her bottom lip, Riddle’s eyes narrowing in on her movements. Hermione was shocked at the overwhelming attraction she had for him. He was young, to be sure, but he was beautiful. He had an aura of danger about him that drew Hermione like a moth to a flame. There was a reason that Hermione and Daphne had been fucking on and off for the last three years—Hermione liked her partners on the dangerous side, and whether that was fake or true danger didn’t matter. She’d been involved with Draco Malfoy shortly after Harry’s death for similar reasons.

She quickly buried thoughts of Draco. Draco had been brutally tortured and murdered by the man in front of her, sixty years in the future. It wasn’t her future anymore. It was nobody’s future, actually, because Hermione simply meeting Tom Riddle in the past was enough to change the future. For good or ill, it was done.

“Charmed,” Hermione said finally, smiling up at him. “I was wondering Mr Riddle—”

She cut herself off when the shop door opened and the bell above it tinkled once more. Riddle looked at her curiously as Hermione tilted her head to the side, trying to decide if the low click of shoes on the hardwood was Daphne or someone else.

“There you are,” Daphne murmured from behind Hermione. She turned, looking over the shoulder at Daphne and offered her a small grin.

“Daphne, please, may I introduce you?” Hermione said warmly, turning back to face Riddle. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Daphne, and Hermione almost rolled her eyes. Typical. Daphne often garnered male attention. She was very beautiful, effortless in a way that Hermione had never been.

“Mr Riddle, this is Daphne Greengrass, my travelling companion. Daphne, meet Mr Tom Riddle, proprietor of this shop.”

Riddle dropped Hermione’s hand and grasped the one Daphne offered as she came to stand next to Hermione. Even in her heels, Daphne towered over her. Hermione almost felt childlike in comparison to Riddle and Daphne.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well,” Riddle murmured against Daphne’s hand before kissing it. Daphne raised an eyebrow at Hermione, getting a shrug in return.

“I’m sorry to have misled you,” Riddle said as he dropped Daphne’s hand and gave them both a small bow. “I, however, am not the proprietor of this fine shop. Just a lowly assistant.”

“Oh?” Daphne asked. “I never would have guessed.” She placed a hand on Riddle’s chest. “You have the look of a shop proprietor about you.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at Daphne’s blatant insult. Riddle was far too haughty to allow himself to be a simple proprietor. His eyes narrowed at Daphne, and he turned his attention back to Hermione.

“Miss Granger, how may I assist you today?”

“I’m looking for a specific piece of jewellry,” Hermione said. “We believe it belonged to my great-grandmother,and we have tracked it here.”

“Well, let’s take a look through our scrolls, shall we?” Riddle offered Hermione his arm, and she took it, throwing a glare at Daphne who smirked at her. Hermione was sure Daphne had a plan, but she didn’t think insulting Riddle was the way to go about it.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione and Riddle had been through every inventory receipt in the store, and not a single mention of the “item” Hermione was looking for was found.

“Drat, I do believe I was given poor information,” Hermione said glumly. She was seated at a small table in the backroom of the shop with an empty cup of tea in front of her.

Riddle flicked his wand and warmed the water for tea again, pouring her a cup. “Perhaps if you described the piece to me?” It wasn’t the first time he offered, but Hermione still shook her head. She truly was looking for a piece of jewellry: Slytherin’s Locket. But there was no mention of it anywhere. Which she feared meant that Tom already had it and had scrubbed it from the books.

“It is very likely that it's just not here,” Hermione said. “Thank you so much for spending the day with me and searching for it, Mr Riddle. You’ve been ever so helpful,” Hermione smiled brilliantly at him.

“It really was no trouble, Miss Granger. I’m always happy to help. Research is one of my favourite things to do,” Riddle replied.

Hermione stood from her chair, and Riddle scrambled to follow her. “I don’t suppose I could beg you for another favour?” Hermione asked over her shoulder as she led Riddle out of the backroom.

“If it’s in my power to grant, I’d be happy to,” Riddle responded. His sudden eagerness made Hermione wonder just how attracted to her he was. Her and Daphne’s plan relied on a certain amount of lust from Riddle, and it would be good if Hermione could test those waters now.

She turned to face him, still standing just inside the doorway. Wringing her hands in front of her, she called up a look of embarrassment. “It’s just that Daphne and I don’t really _know_ anybody here in England.”

Riddle nodded along thoughtfully, but Hermione was sure she could see a glimmer of something in his eyes.

“And you seem like such a fine young man,” Hermione added, placing her hand on his arm, just above his elbow. She squeezed her hand and wasn’t surprised to feel him flexing beneath her fingers. Men were the same everywhere. “Perhaps you could introduce us to a few of your contemporaries?”

Riddle seemed to think over the suggestion carefully, but Hermione was sure now that the glimmer in his eyes was triumph. _Good, _she thought. She wanted him to believe he was winning something here. A triumphant Riddle was a Riddle who would be complacent.

“I’m sure I could arrange something. Where are you and Miss Greengrass staying?”

“Just at the Leaky Cauldron for now,” Hermione said. “It’s not the best, but we arrived a little short on time. I believe Daphne is working on finding us a better arrangement now.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll owl you then. I believe there may be an engagement near the end of this week that I could wrangle you an invite to.”

“Oh, really?” Hermione asked hopefully, putting every last ounce of her innocence into her eyes as she gazed up at him. “That would be wonderful!” she gushed.

Tom looked incredibly pleased with himself, so Hermione decided it was time to throw him off balance again. She braced herself against his chest and rose up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. She still had her hand wrapped around his bicep and squeezed it once more. “Really, thank you, Mr Riddle,” Hermione breathed under her breath against his face.

She was unsurprised when she settled back onto her feet that Tom was standing there looking slightly dumbstruck. If he’d had sex before, Hermione would be shocked—he gave off a vibe that screamed virgin to her. Suddenly, she was very much looking forward to her mission with Daphne.

* * *

“At the Malfoy’s? My, he does move in high circles,” Daphne murmured as she read over the invitation they had just received. “Think he’ll be ready to seduce already?”

“I think he’s a bloody virgin,” Hermione replied. She wrapped an arm around Daphne’s waist and kissed her shoulder. “And I think he’s hungry to get laid. Seducing him won’t be the hard part.”

“No? What will be the hard part?” Daphne asked, turning in Hermione’s arms.

“Getting the two Horcruxes he definitely has, destroying them, and convincing him not to make any more of them,” Hermione replied.

Daphne hummed her agreement and pressed her lips against Hermione’s, before trailing them down her neck. Hermione shivered at the attention Daphne was showing her and slipped her hands inside Daphne’s loose dressing gown, trailing her fingers over the warm skin she found there.

“Any ideas on how we do that?” Daphne whispered in Hermione’s ear. Hermione trailed her fingers and tweaked one of Daphne’s nipples as her hands worked to get Hermione naked.

“Promise him a legitimate political advantage,” Hermione replied. She groaned when Daphne bent her head and took one of Hermione’s newly exposed nipples into her mouth. “Fuck, Daph,” Hermione muttered as Daphne sucked hard.

Daphne pulled away from Hermione’s breast long enough to grunt, “Keep talking.” Then she closed her lips around Hermione’s nipple once more, all the while backing Hermione toward the bed.

“We’ll need to get in with all of the powerful pure-blood families, ingratiate ourselves and Riddle as well. Change the entire political structure to give Riddle the power he craves,” Hermione sighed as one of Daphne’s hands slipped between her folds.

With a light shove, Hermione was falling onto the bed and Daphne scrambling on top of her. She pressed two fingers into Hermione’s slick channel, pulling a grunt from her. Daphne grinned around Hermione’s other nipple but didn’t stop her ministrations. She bit lightly at Hermione’s tender skin reminding Hermione to keep talking.

“Once we get Riddle firmly in our camp,” Hermione said, her hands wrapping around Daphne’s head to keep her lover at her breasts, “then we can work on destroying the Horcruxes. We need to keep Tom busy. Instead of going off to look for more pieces of the Founders, he needs to be kept busy with garnering power to himself.”

Daphne added a fourth finger, and Hermione found herself unable to think when her body was humming, twisting, turning—gearing up for what promised to be a mind-blowing orgasm.

Sliding down Hermione’s body, Daphne placed her lips around Hermione’s clit and sucked just like she’d done to Hermione’s nipples. Hermione shouted as her entire body went taut, and she rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Daphne’s fingers continued to plunge into her over and over again. The suction on her clit never ceased.

Long moments later, after Hermione had dozed off and woken again, she found Daphne leaning over her. “Triads aren’t completely unheard of,” Daphne said, trailing a finger down Hermione’s naked chest. “There are certain rituals that can be performed, increasing a triad’s power, binding them together.”

Hermione grinned up at her. “I knew there was a reason I loved you,” she murmured, reaching for Daphne and kissing her fiercely. She rolled them over until Daphne was on her back, and Hermione was straddling her stomach. “So are we doing it? Forming a triad with Riddle? Giving him power, but guiding him away from his worst impulses?”

“Yes,” Daphne hissed as Hermione’s fingers found her nipples and began pinching them.

Hermione grinned again before placing her lips against Daphne’s chest, trailing down until she was face-to-face with Daphne’s delightful quim.

* * *

A week later, the gala at Malfoy Manor was in full swing as Hermione and Daphne stepped out of the fireplace. A house-elf appeared to take their travelling cloaks and disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Another house-elf came by with a tray of champagne before they had even been greeted. The entry hall was empty, but the moment they each had a glass of champagne in hand, a suave-looking blond man swept into the room with Riddle walking right behind him.

“Ah, you must be the Misses Granger and Greengrass,” the blond man said, his voice oozing with sophistication. Both Riddle and the blond man were dressed to the nines in the wizarding equivalent of Muggle tuxedos.

“Indeed we are,” Daphne answered for them. “Daphne Greengrass,” she held out her hand for the blond man to take.

He did so, murmuring his name over it. “Abraxas Malfoy, at your service,” he said, kissing the back of it.

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione said, holding her hand aloft as well.

“My, Tom, you do know how to pick them,” Malfoy grinned after giving Hermione’s hand the same treatment he had given Daphne’s.

Riddle frowned at Malfoy and shouldered past him to greet the women. Hermione smiled at him slyly and reached up on her tiptoes to place another kiss at the corner of his mouth. Daphne followed suit, much to Tom’s surprise.

“So lovely to see you again, Mr Riddle,” Daphne said, batting her eyelashes at him. Hermione almost rolled her eyes at that coquettish behaviour, but she reminded herself to stay in character and looped her arm through Riddle’s.

“You’ll give us the tour, won’t you?” Hermione asked, looking up at him.

“Absolutely,” Riddle responded with a smirk over his shoulder at Malfoy. Daphne copied Hermione and slid her arm through Riddle’s he led them through the Manor, pointing out the sights on the way to the ballroom. Malfoy trailed along behind them, and Hermione was sure he was simmering, but Malfoy wasn’t her problem—Riddle was.

It was several hours later that Hermione and Daphne were finally able to convince Riddle to sneak out of the gala for a more thorough tour of the Manor.

“I only know my way around a little,” Riddle admitted.

“Enough to find a guest room?” Daphne suggested, biting her lip as her fingers danced up his chest.

Riddle smirked. “Yes, I believe I can find you a guest room, Miss Greengrass.”

“Not just me,” Daphne said, becoming bolder now. She was almost the same height as Tom, and she leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “Us.”

“Us,” Hermione repeated, squeezing Riddle’s arm. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Riddle’s eyes widened momentarily before his smirk was back in place. “Right this way, ladies.”

Hermione winked at Daphne as Riddle led them out of the ballroom. They were halfway up the stairs to the first floor when Malfoy stopped them.

“Tom! What on earth are you doing?” Malfoy asked from the bottom of the staircase. Riddle dropped Hermione’s and Daphne’s arms and turned slowly to face his friend.

“Taking advantage of your hospitality, Abraxas. Is that going to be a problem?” The statement was so cold, Hermione shivered. For the first time, she could see the future Dark Lord in him.

Malfoy looked startled and backed away, bowing slightly. “No, of course not. My apologies, Tom. Ladies.” He shot them one last look before hurrying back to the party in the ballroom. The deference showed by Malfoy was interesting, and Hermione shot a look to Daphne. They’d have to address the “followers” business.

“Sorry about that,” Riddle said quietly, placing a hand on each of their lower backs, directing them up the rest of the stairs. “Abraxas plays at being overprotective at times.”

“What, exactly, is he overprotective of?” Hermione asked. “You?”

Riddle laughed. It was cold and sharp and did strange things to Hermione’s insides—not all of them good. “Yes, sometimes.”

He directed them to the first door on the left once they’d reached the first floor, and the door opened up into an impeccably appointed guest suite in pale blues and creams. There was a large bed in the center of the room, large enough to easily sleep four. The windows opposite the door were open, and the sheer curtains fluttered slightly in the cool breeze that was coming through.

The moment the door was shut behind them, Daphne was on Riddle. She pushed him up against the wall and snogged him senseless. Hermione’s heart beat sped up as she watched them—it was arousing, erotic even. She approached Daphne from behind and slid her hands over the back of Riddle’s where they were gripping Daphne’s hips tightly. Directing Riddle, Hermione trailed their hands up Daphne’s body and placed his hand on Daphne’s breast.

“She likes it when you squeeze and thumb her nipple at the same time,” Hermione said, demonstrating precisely what Daphne liked. Daphne moaned, her head falling backwards as Riddle kissed his way down her throat.

“What else?” he gasped when Hermione lifted Daphne’s leg to hook around his hip.

“Frottage,” Hermione replied. “She’s always down for a little frottage. You do know what frottage is, don’t you?”

Riddle glared at her as he flexed his hips against Daphne’s core. With the hand that wasn’t teasing Daphne’s breast, he reached out and yanked Hermione to him, his hand quickly burying in her hair as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was brutal, harsh, full of lips and teeth, and Hermione fucking loved it. She was still standing off to the side as Riddle and Daphne humped against the wall and felt a bit like the odd man out, but suddenly Daphne had a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her dress off.

“Fuck,” Riddle muttered when both Hermione and Daphne pulled back, sliding their dresses down their bodies and showing him just how prepared they were for the evening. They were both entirely naked. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Let’s just say you intrigue us,” Daphne responded with a cool smile. “And you appear entirely overdressed. Hermione,” Daphne said, tipping her head in Riddle’s direction. Hermione obeyed Daphne and stepped forward, smiling at Riddle as she began pulling off his cravat and then unbuttoning his jacket and the shirt beneath. Once his chest was bare, Daphne pushed Hermione’s head toward it, and Hermione took the cue, kissing and licking her way toward his waist while Riddle hissed a sharp breath above her.

“Now his trousers,” Daphne said. Hermione made quick work of his belt, trousers, and pants, shoving them off his hips. She licked her lips when she saw how hard and large Riddle’s cock was. “Suck it,” Daphne ordered.

Hermione sank to her knees. She didn’t bother attempting to tease him, knowing it would just irritate Daphne. Instead, she opened her mouth and pulled him inside as far as he could go. When the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, she swallowed.

Riddle choked above her, his hands flying to her head and holding her in place as his hips rocked forward. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted over and over again as Hermione sucked him. She pulled her mouth from his cock and licked the head like a lollipop, giving him a moment to recover.

“Does she always take your direction?” Riddle asked. Hermione looked out of the corner of her eye to see that Daphne was standing some distance away, her fingers on her clit, watching the two of them.

“Yes,” Daphne replied. “She’s quite the obedient little lady in the bedroom.”

Hermione smirked at Daphne and crooked her finger, indicating she should come closer. Daphne sidled up to the wall next to Riddle, her fingers once again going to her clit. Hermione slapped her hand away, grabbing Riddle’s cock firmly with one hand and using the other to spread Daphne’s folds.

“Oh, fuck,” Daphne murmured as Hermione licked her clit. One of Daphne’s hands landed on Hermione’s hair and pulled her closer. Hermione used the same rhythm with her hand pumping Riddle’s cock as she did with her tongue on Daphne’s clit. Sliding her hand down, she pushed two fingers inside Daphne.

“Fucking Salazar,” Riddle hissed. “I assumed you two were a bit of an item, but I never—” he cut himself off as Hermione pulled away from Daphne and took his cock in her mouth once more.

Daphne laughed breathlessly. “Hermione’s fucking relentless. Hope you’re ready for that, Riddle.”

“I like persistence,” Riddle grunted. Hermione almost smirked around his cock—he had no idea what he was in for. The longer she had his cock in her mouth, though, the more she liked Daphne’s plan. Frankly, she missed cock. It had been far too long. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Hermione swallowed around the head of Riddle’s cock again, then shoved it deeper into her throat, almost choking herself on it until her nose was pressed against his abdomen.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. Fuck!” Riddle shouted, his cock swelling in Hermione’s mouth and throat before finally it pulsed and his seed spilled inside her. She swallowed most of it, before slowly dragging his cock out of her mouth and grinning up at him, a trail of come dangling from her lips.

“That was…” he trailed off, seeming not to have any words. He gripped Hermione’s shoulders and pulled her to standing, quickly shifting their positions so her back was against the wall and snogged her fiercely. He didn’t seem to mind that he was tasting his own come as he thrust his tongue in her mouth.

“Bed,” Daphne demanded. “We should move this to the bed.”

She pulled on Riddle’s shoulder and pushed him across the room. Hermione followed, smirking. Riddle was definitely inexperienced. This was going to be as easy as Daphne thought.

* * *

A week after the gala, Tom showed up on their doorstep with a bottle of wine in hand. They had finally found long-term accommodations in Diagon Alley and shared a little two-bedroom flat for propriety’s sake, though the second bedroom was doubling as a study and library.

“Mr Riddle! This is a surprise,” Hermione said when she opened the door. And it was—they hadn’t told Tom their address.

“It’s Tom,” he said, entering the flat and pressing a kiss against her cheek. He squeezed her hip as he went past, and Hermione smiled as she shut the door. She liked that he was resourceful, which meant that she and Daphne would have to be exceedingly careful until he was fully committed.

“Tom!” Daphne practically shouted as she bounded into the sitting room from the kitchen. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I was just making dinner. Are you hungry?”

Tom shrugged. “I could eat.”

“Good! Sit. Hermione, open the wine,” Daphne rattled off before bustling back to the kitchen.

“She’s an excellent cook,” Hermione said. “Hope you like Italian—her risotto is to die for.” She tugged the bottle of wine out of Tom’s hands and made short work of the cork, pouring them all a glass. Tom slid his arms around her from behind.

“Daphne gave me a proper greeting, you know,” he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

Hermione hummed, trying to play it cool even though her knickers were already growing damp. “Did she now?”

Tom’s chuckle sent shivers down her spine as he spun her around in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. Hermione gripped his shoulders, giving him as much as he gave. She didn’t even notice when he had her backed against the wall. He lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he rocked into her. His cock was hard and pressed so deliciously against her clit that Hermione groaned in response.

“Seems Daphne isn’t the only one who likes frottage,” Tom murmured into her ear, breaking the kiss and licking down her neck.

“Dinner’s ready,” Daphne said from right beside them, startling Hermione. She squeaked, and Tom and Daphne both laughed.

* * *

Hermione and Daphne had arrived in the past four months ago, and it was hard to believe that it was almost Christmas already. Tom didn’t have any family and had been spending so much time in their flat that they planned to ask him to move in after the holidays.

Tom didn’t really want to do Christmas gifts, but Daphne insisted and bought gifts for everyone, herself included. Hermione purchased a few gifts for them both, knowing that Tom wouldn’t bother with it. She’d even bought a gift for herself—new book on triad bonding rituals. She planned to research all of them to determine which one was the best for the three of them. Some were lighter bonding than others, but Hermione wanted the deepest, most serious one she could find. She was going to bind Tom Riddle to her fucking soul for the rest of their lives. It was the best way to neutralize the threat of him.

What Tom didn’t know was that Hermione had already found both of his Horcruxes and destroyed them. _What he doesn’t know won't hurt him_. Daphne’s voice floated through her head. Hermione agreed. He hadn’t been to Albania yet, so he didn’t have the diadem. Hepzibah Smith was alive and well, so he didn’t have the cup. Hermione was reasonably sure that he’d only had the first two Horcruxes. Even if he did have another Horcrux lying around, the next trick up Hermione’s sleeve would render it useless.

“How was your errand?” Tom asked as Hermione slipped back into their flat.

“Perfect,” Hermione said. She held up the ham she’d run out to the Muggle grocery store to get for Christmas day. “Just need to pop this in the oven and we’ll be all set for tomorrow.”

Tom grunted and went back to the book he was reading. Hermione took her cloak off and stepped into the kitchen. Thank goodness for 1940s architecture. The kitchen was completely closed off from the rest of the flat.

“And your _other_ errand?” Daphne asked as she prepared the stuffing for the next day.

“Just fine. The potion only lasted fifteen minutes though, bloody waste of Galleons.”

“Better than Burke recognizing you,” Daphne reminded her.

Hermione nodded and stowed the ham in the icebox. “If we’re lucky, when he gets back to work after Christmas and goes through the new inventory, he’ll be intrigued.”

“He better be,” Daphne muttered darkly. “The longer we’re back here without binding him to us, the more nervous I get. Especially when he goes off with Abraxas and his gang.”

“I know,” Hermione replied. And she did know, it was nerve-wracking for her too. Especially now that the Horcruxes were gone. A side benefit of the ritual she wanted to try was that it would make it impossible for one of them to die without the rest of them dying. So unless Tom was ready to die, he wouldn’t attempt to kill Hermione or Daphne. In fact, it was in his best interest to make sure they lived long lives.

“Soon,” Daphne said, pressing a kiss against Hermione’s temple.

* * *

“You aren’t going to _believe_ what I’ve found!” Tom said, bounding through the door of their flat. Hermione looked up to find him holding the book she’d brought to Borgin and Burkes just a week ago. She felt like grinning but kept to a small smile instead.

“What’s that?” she asked, standing to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s a book on triads and binding rituals,” Tom said. “I haven’t read the whole thing, I didn’t have time at work. But we have been talking about it, so…” he trailed off, suddenly seeming nervous.

Hermione squealed in excitement and threw her arms around his shoulders. “Yes, Tom Riddle, I would love to bind myself to you!” She kissed him fully on the mouth. “Daphne and I were just talking about it last week, actually,” she whispered against his lips. “We weren’t sure _you_ would be interested.”

“Oh, I am definitely interested,” Tom murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close as he plundered her mouth.

“What’s this, then? Starting without me?” Daphne asked.

Hermione reluctantly pulled away from Tom and turned toward Daphne, offering her a wink as Tom explained what he had found. Daphne was just as excited as Hermione. With a flick of her wand, she put dinner on hold, and the three of them hurried to the bedroom to celebrate.

* * *

“I’m not sure you’d be interested,” Hermione began a few days later after all three of them had a chance to examine the book. In truth, Hermione had picked out the ritual she wanted to do the first time she read through the book, but she wanted to give Tom a chance to read through them all first. She wanted it to ultimately be his idea.

“Which one?” Tom asked. They were on the floor between the sofa and the low table in front of the fireplace. Parchment was scattered around them as they had each made notes of various rites and what was required for each of them.

“This one,” Hermione said, flipping through the book until they were almost three-quarters of the way through. “It’s complicated and well…”

Tom looked up at her with expectant eyes. “What’s your problem with it?”

“It’s not that _I_ have a problem with it,” she bit her lip and looked to Daphne.

“We thought you might have a problem with it,” Daphne explained. “It’s a little dark.”

“And there’s blood magic involved,” Hermione whispered, kneeling and facing Tom.

“And sex magic,” Daphne added, leaning closer to Tom.

“And we’ll need to do it at a set of standing stones,” Hermione said, placing her hand on Tom’s chest.

“We’ll also have to summon a minor deity,” Daphne said, crawling into Tom’s lap and sliding her arms around his neck.

“Why does this feel like a setup?” Tom asked gruffly as he palmed Daphne’s bum and turned his head to capture Hermione’s lips in a kiss. Hermione hummed into the kiss.

“Not a setup,” Daphne said between licks along Tom’s throat. “We just want to make sure we’re on the same page. If you don’t want to do dark magic, we’ll understand.”

“Oh, no,” Tom laughed, pulling away from Hermione. “I’m not afraid of a little dark magic.”

“Good,” Hermione replied, making short work of Tom’s shirt as Daphne worked on his trousers.

* * *

A month later, they were at the Malfoy standing stones. Abraxas was frowning as Daphne and Hermione began preparing the circle. Tom paced around the circle and began placing candles every twenty paces or so.

“How long is this going to take?” Abraxas asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom said, walking over to his friend. He clapped him on the shoulder and began leading him away from the standing stones.

“Well, I didn’t think Malfoy would be such a stick in the mud,” Daphne murmured, pouring salt in a large circle around the stones.

“I think it’s that he’s afraid of losing his master,” Hermione replied.

“Soon to be our bond-mate and nobody’s master,” Daphne said with satisfaction.

The moment they were finished with the preparations, Tom returned without Abraxas in tow.

“Have you settled him?” Hermione asked, inviting him into the circle.

“I have,” Tom confirmed. “He’s jealous, I think, mostly.” Tom shrugged. He was used to his friends being jealous of him. “Are we ready?”

“We need to set the outer fire,” Daphne said. “Once that’s done, then we’ll gather at the headstone, make the blood sacrifice, and summon _Nantosuelta_. Once we’ve confirmed the goddess is present and witnessing the events unfold, then we’ll ask her for the binding.”

“Will she grant the binding?” Tom asked.

“Only if she finds us worthy,” Hermione said. “But I don’t think she’ll actually turn us down. I’m guessing not too many people these days still worship her. As long as we’re honest and truthful in our worship, I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment, staring at Hermione. Hermione desperately wanted to dart her eyes to Daphne for reassurance, but she held Tom’s gaze, trying to reassure him with her eyes that this wasn’t a trick. Despite everything that had happened over the last few months, Tom definitely held them in some suspicion still. “Alright,” he said finally. He offered her a smile which she returned.

“_Incendio_,” Daphne hissed at the oak branches they had laid on the outside of the standing stones. The oak would protect them, and the salt circle was to ensure that the only deity who arrived would be _Nantosuelta_.

“Let’s do it,” Tom said, grabbing the bowl for their blood sacrifice and a silver knife. They could have used magic, but sometimes, the old ways were the best.

Once the three of them were arranged before the headstone, Daphne cut her wrist first, letting the bright red blood splatter into the bowl Tom was holding. Then Tom cut his wrist, handing the knife to Hermione. She followed suit. After there was a sizable puddle of blood in the bowl, they began to chant. Hermione closed her eyes, and swayed, feeling Tom and Daphne mimic her movements as they called _Nantosuelta_ to their circle.

The wind howled outside of the circle, the fire flickered, and behind her closed eyes, Hermione could sense the world darkening.

“_Who calls Nantosuelta forward after so many years?”_ a voice boomed out. It seemed to come from all around them, and the force of it drove all three of them to their knees.

Hermione took a deep breath, but before she could speak, Tom opened his mouth.

“Please, Goddess _Nantosuelta,_ it is a lowly triad who looks for your blessing,” Tom said, his voice deep and deferential.

“_And do your paramours agree to this binding ritual? For that is what my blessing is: a binding ritual to bind you together for now while alive and in death.”_ The voice was terrible, hissing like snakes, yet forceful and loud as an elephant’s trumpet.

“Yes!” Hermione and Daphne said at the same time. All three still had their eyes closed for fear of looking upon a goddess in the flesh.

“_Then open your eyes and see me_,” _Nantosuelta_ hissed.

Hermione did, and if you asked her years later what the goddess looked like, she still couldn’t tell you. Words could not describe the beauty, the awesomeness, the terribleness before her. The goddess’s red hair rippled in an unfelt wind as she towered before them.

“_I must look into each of your hearts to determine the truth of the blessing_.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she was suddenly standing in front of Hermione, her hands on Hermione’s cheeks as her gaze bored into Hermione's. Hermione struggled, trying to back away from that horrific gaze, but _Nantosuelta_ held tight, and there was nothing Hermione could do but to gaze back. It was the gentlest Legilimency Hermione had ever been subjected to. She could feel the foreign presence in her mind, but beyond that, nothing. And as quick as it started, it felt as if it would last forever, but then it was over, and the goddess moved on to Tom. Hermione bent over, panting, reeling as the truths of the universe slowly left her brain, and she forgot them as quickly as she learned them.

Once the goddess was finished with Daphne, she spoke again, “_I have found you worthy of my blessing. This binding will last from now until this planet ceases to exist._” She clapped her hands and disappeared in a flash.

For a long moment, the three of them knelt before the headstone, unable to comprehend what had just taken place.

Tom groaned, suddenly, and began to strip out of his clothes. His actions woke Hermione and Daphne from their trance. All it took was one traded glance between the women and they fell on Tom, taking the pleasure the goddess had bestowed in them.

He seemed to have been lent some strength because before much foreplay could take place, he settled Hermione on his lap, impaling her on his cock. She cried out as she began to ride him. Daphne and Hermione met in the middle in a feverish kiss. Hermione had her hands buried in Daphne’s hair as Daphne dropped her hands to Hermione’s breasts, cupping them and thumbing her nipples. Tom’s hands were tight on Hermione’s waist, helping her to move.

Tom flexed his hips, grinding up into Hermione, and she broke her kiss with Daphne with a cry as ecstasy flowed through her body. She arched her back and came harder than she ever had before. She shuddered as she came down and slid off of Tom. Daphne took her place, scrambling to mount Tom’s cock. Hermione laid her head on Tom’s chest, he curled one arm around her and kissed her. The taste of both Daphne and Tom would never get old, Hermione thought as she kissed him back lazily.

The moment Daphne and Tom both came a bright green light burst from the centre of the standing stones, travelling across the land in a shockwave as the newly-bonded triad relaxed on the cool grass beneath them.

* * *

The power boost after the ritual was unexpected. Hermione found she didn’t even need her wand for most spells. It had been almost a full month since they became a bonded triad and more often than not, Hermione found herself performing magic instinctively, without uttering a spell or waving her wand. She would think about making a cup of tea and suddenly there would be one in her hand, steaming hot. Daphne and Tom experienced similar effects, something Hermione thought would come in handy. The small two-bedroom flat that she shared with Daphne was entirely too tiny for the three of them. They were going to have to move soon.

Tom had been spending less and less time with his friends, which Hermione and Daphne hoped meant that the triad bond was working to pull him away from them.

“Think the “followers” will be taking care of themselves?” Daphne asked one morning after Tom left for work.

“I hope so,” Hermione hummed. “And if not, I’m sure we can think of many, many ways to keep Tom busy.”

“I love your devious, wicked, little mind,” Daphne said, pressing a quick kiss to Hermione’s lips.

* * *

“I got it!” Tom shouted later that night as he strode through the door of the flat.

“Got what?” Hermione asked, looking up from the research she was doing.

“The Gaunt seat,” Tom smirked.

“On the Wizengamot?” Daphne asked, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a tea towel.

“Do you know of another Gaunt seat?” Tom asked derisively. “Of course, on the Wizengamot. I cannot believe they gave it to me, but they did.”

“Had you asked before now?” Hermione asked.

“Of course! The moment I figured out I was a Gaunt, I went to the Ministry to apply for the seat. It was empty, nobody had sat in it in over fifty years, and they laughed at me. Can you believe that? They _laughed_ at me!” Tom settled on the middle of the couch, spreading his arms across the back of it. Daphne and Hermione joined him on either side, and Tom draped his arms around their shoulders.

“But not today,” Daphne said.

“Not today,” Tom grinned. “Today when I walked in, they either knew about the triad bonding, or they sensed the increased power because it was all “Right away, sir” and “Follow me, sir.” Until I spoke with the Chief Warlock. I told him what I was after, and he agreed immediately. Owled the Ministry tailor then and there to have me fitted for a Wizengamot robe.”

“Wow,” Hermione replied. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “We should celebrate!”

“I’m always up for a celebration with you,” Tom murmured, pressing his lips to hers.

“Not that kind of celebration,” Daphne laughed, pulling the two of them apart. “I have something else in mind.”

Hermione frowned at Daphne—she had no idea what the witch had up her sleeve.

“Grab on,” Daphne said, holding her hands out to both Tom and Hermione. She stood, and they followed suit. In a great sucking sensation, Daphne apparated them out of their flat and to a country road.

“Warn me next time,” Hermione complained, applying a warming charm as the bitter March wind swept through her.

“Why are we here?” Tom snapped.

“I bought it!” Daphne said, bouncing on her heels.

Hermione looked up to see what exactly it was Daphne had bought and found a large manor house at the end of a long lane. The gate before them had a stylized _R_ on it, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that this was the old Riddle Manor house.

“Why?” Tom nearly growled.

“For us!” Daphne said. “I figured we could fully _wizard-ize_ it. Get it on the Floo network and everything. It’s much bigger than that itsy-bitsy flat we’re all crammed into now.”

Hermione watched Tom carefully as a range of emotions passed across his face. “It’s ours, right now?”

Daphne nodded. “Come on.” She waved her hand, and the gate opened. She led them through and down the lane.

The house was cold and had an air of neglect about it as if humans hadn’t lived in it for several years. If Hermione thought back to Tom’s timeline a bit harder, she probably could have pinpointed the exact amount of years it had been, but she decided not to do that.

Tom walked through the rooms silently, and Hermione worried he was angry about the gift. She glanced at Daphne, but she seemed oblivious to Tom’s mood as she nattered on about various rooms. When they arrived at the largest bedroom on the first floor, the master bedroom, clearly—Tom’s cool finally snapped.

He pushed Daphne back into the wall. “Shut up,” he growled and kissed her fiercely. It wasn’t at all the reaction Hermione had thought was coming. He stripped Daphne quickly as Hermione helped him out of his robes. Within a few frenzied moments, he had impaled Daphne on his cock, her back against the wall and her limbs wrapped around him.

“Fuck, Tom!” Daphne gasped as he began driving into her.

With one hand on Daphne’s hip, he used the other to tangle in Hermione’s hair, pulling her close and whispered against her lips. “Did you know about her plan to buy this hovel?”

“We discussed it,” Hermione admitted, “but I didn’t know she’d already purchased it.”

“We’ll discuss your punishment later,” Tom growled, pressing a brutal kiss to Hermione’s mouth. It tasted of delicious promises to come, and Hermione found herself growing increasingly wet.

“Touch her,” Tom demanded of Hermione, his fist still tangled in her hair at the back of her head. Hermione reached between the two writhing bodies to tweak Daphne’s nipples. Daphne removed her arm from Tom and slung it around Hermione’s shoulders to give her more room. Tom directed her head to Daphne’s chest, pausing in his ministrations for a moment. “Suck it,” he directed, and Hermione put her lips around Daphne’s nipple, sucking hard, just the way Daphne liked best.

Daphne cried out, her head hitting the wall behind her as Tom began hammering away again. The soft flesh in Hermione’s mouth bounced, but she didn’t dare let go. Not with the way Tom’s fist tightened in her hair as both of her partners reached their climax.

Slowly, Daphne slid her legs down from Tom’s hips, leaning against the wall and panting hard. Tom wasn’t done with them, though. He pushed Hermione against the wall and sank to his knees. Wrenching her robes out of the way, he dove face-first into her cunt and began licking her with abandon. Hermione cried out and lifted one leg over Tom’s shoulder, gripping his head with her hands as he ate at her without ceasing. When Daphne attempted to collapse next to Tom on the floor, he pulled away from Hermione long enough to glare at her.

“Undress her,” he told Daphne and went back to Hermione’s quim. Hermione writhed, but despite how turned on she was, she feared she wasn’t going to be able to come without something pounding away into her.

“Tom, please,” Hermione begged as Daphne pulled the last of Hermione’s clothes from her.

Tom grinned nastily and stood, turning Hermione around until her front was pressed against the wall. He bent his knees and slid neatly inside her, pressing her so hard into the wall it was almost painful, but it also felt so fucking good.

“I don’t like surprises,” Tom hissed as he pumped away, each thrust harder than the last, sending Hermione's hip bones into the chair rail, over and over again. “Don’t let it happen again,” he grunted. Hermione couldn’t tell, but she thought she heard Tom and Daphne kissing behind her and the idea of them kissing languidly while Tom fucked her so brutally sent her over the edge with a shout.

* * *

It didn’t take long to get the Riddle Manor house in order as a wizarding home. As a member of the Wizengamot, Tom was expected to host events for his colleagues and other politicians within the Ministry machine.

For the next century or so, the Riddle Triad was considered the crème de la crème of wizarding society. They held the best parties and galas. Everyone in wizarding Britain vied for their attention and approval. Daphne was particularly well known in the fashion circles, and her ensembles often became mass-produced just a few weeks after she wore them.

When a new law was being discussed, Hermione’s opinion was the one everyone wanted to have. It embarrassed Hermione at first, but after a while, she grew into her new role. And she was as happy as Tom and Daphne were when Tom was elected as Minister for Magic in the late 1970s.

And if she followed the Potter and Weasley families a little too closely, well, Daphne was always there to cover for her.

_ **~Fin~** _


End file.
